Page 1 of Mountain Wood

Chapter 1

Dean

“Come on, baby. Open for me.” Tugging the stubborn, half-split log, I growl with the effort it takes to pry it in half. “There we go… that’s it… a little more. You can do it.” The wood finally cracks all the way down and two pieces of oak fall to the ground by my boots. Breathing hard from exertion, I lean down to smile at the camera and wink. “That’s my good girl.”

Stopping the recording, I stuff my cell in my back pocket and contemplate taking off my shirt. Even though it’s chilly this morning, I’ve already worked up a sweat.

My property boasts six cabins on five hundred acres of woods and a stream that’s close enough to the larger mountains to attract some skiers once snow hits but most of my business comes during the warmer months with wildlife enthusiasts. I’ve been renovating each cabin in hopes of saving my inheritance—this mountain—which means I need enough wood to heat them while I make repairs through winter, so they’ll be ready by spring.

A cool gust of wind blows, relieving the heat on the back of my neck. Sucking in a lungful of crisp air rejuvenates me, and I pick my axe back up. One might argue I have enough cords stacked for the seasonalready, but they’d be wrong. You can never have enough firewood.

Besides, manual labor is the only way to get out my pent-up energy. I haven’t been with a woman in over two years, and my hand is a sad replacement. One I only use when I can’t stand the tension anymore.

So yeah, chopping twenty cords of wood is a lot, but it’s barely put a dent in how hard I want to fuck.

You know what? Screw it. Yanking my phone back out, I set it up on the woodpile and aim it at the chopping block again.

“Ready to get dirty with me, baby?” I lick my lips suggestively and stroke the handle of my axe. “Winter’s coming… and if you’re a good girl, so will you.”

I balance another log on the block, and flex my forearms for good measure. I’ll entice two audiences with this—the lumbsnackers and the thriller chicks because hello, axe. Funneling all my sexual frustration, I raise the axe over my head and swing down, grunting from the force of impact. “Fuuuck, that feels so good.”

Wiggling the blade free, I bring it up and swing down again, splitting this piece in two much faster than the last one. After unbuttoning my shirt and peeling it off, I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. I’m breathing hard, and my abs are flexing nicely, but I pretend to not notice and grab another hefty log.

“One more for me,” I tease. Then I slam my axe into it, grunting and growling.

Don’t judge me. I’ve got bills and if I don’t fill my cabins with paying guests, I’ll lose my land. These thirst traps earn me income that keeps me afloat.

Once I’ve got enough footage to work with, I cut the video again, but this time, I’m too hot to put back on my shirt. Sweat trickles down my back and the breeze no longer cools me off.

My dog Oscar runs over with her ball. Her tail wagging goes into turbo speed as she drops it at my feet.

“Who’s a good girl?”

Not her, honestly. She’s part labrador, but I have no clue what the other parts of her are. I suspect there’s a little Tasmanian devil in her too. Or a chaos demon. Scratching her ears, I rile her up before grabbing the ball.

“Go get it!”

I chuck that sucker as far as I can and watch her goofy ass take off after it. Her paws kick up mud as she races after her toy and something flickers in my peripheral, almost blinding me for a second. Shielding my eyes from the glare, I squint and see a luxury car slowly pulling up to the cabin circle.

Oh hell no.

My stomach twists with fury. That cocksucker from New York is back again. I’ve told him three times I’m not interested in selling my property and since he can’t seem to take no for an answer, I’m going to have to drive my meaning home another way.

Twirling my axe, I storm right over to his car, ready for a fight. Or a lawsuit. I don’t even care anymore. “I told you to stay off my property, motherfucker.”

The door swings open, and I’m blasted with show tune music, perfume, and a woman dressed to the nines hiding behind a huge pair of black sunglasses.

The axe slips from my hand instantly, clanking on the ground.

Do they think sending a dark-haired bombshell to negotiate will sway me into giving up the only thing I have left in my life? I might be a sex-deprived mountain man, but I’m not stupid.

She turns down her obnoxious music and flashes me a killer smile.

Fuuuuck. What was it I just said about not being stupid? Every cell in my body drops their jaw when she smiles at me. I think my heart just fainted.

Keep it together, Dean. Stay chill.

My dick is anythingbutchill. This woman is built like a dream, and I haven’t even seen her eyes yet.

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